"Let's use the same logic here." Tristan held up a finger. "One, you know how to drive the hovercar. I don't." He held up another finger. "Two, you're exhausted. You've been driving us for hours after staying up all night to steal this thing. I've been sitting on a bench, and I was able to doze lightly last night while we were waiting for you." He held up a third finger. "Three, it's my turn."
"You were doing great until that last one," Gray said. "There are no turns out here. We pick the best person for the job." Tristan started to interrupt. Gray ignored him and continued. "Normally, I would argue that I am that person, but you make good points." Gray looked at Ginger's motionless form. "Get suited up. I'll get us closer."
The trees of the oasis grew larger as the hovercar raced across the desert. Gray slowed the car to a stop when they were still about a half mile away.
"This is as close as I think we can get without being seen. You ready?"
Tristan nodded. His dark skin and hair were hidden by the cloak he had fashioned out of the driver's curtain. He pushed the button to open the door, waved a quick goodbye to Emery and turned toward Gray with his hand out. "Thanks for getting us this far."
Gray grabbed his hand and pulled him in for a quick hug. "It took all of us to get this far." He released Tristan and looked him in the eye. "Be careful. No heroics. Just see if it looks like Thomas is still there. If you're not back in two hours, we're coming after you."
Tristan stepped back and raised the hood over his head. With his face shadowed, his eyes gleamed. "If I'm not back in two hours, get her to safety." He motioned to Ginger. "Then come back for me."
Gray started to argue, but Tristan turned on his heel and stepped through the open door of the hovercar into a swirl of blowing sand. Gray watched his retreating back until his makeshift cloak blended in with the blowing sand of the desert.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Tristan wiped the sweat and sand off his forehead and peered through the glare of the sun. He was lying flat on his stomach near the edge of the oasis, hoping his cloak offered enough camouflage to protect him from detection. But detection by whom? So far, despite lying in the sand for what seemed like an hour, he had seen no one. He glanced at the sun, trying to determine how much of his two hours he had left. He would need to head back to the hovercar soon if he didn't want to be left behind.
He wiped the sweat out of his eyes again and slowly rose from his hiding spot. No shouts of alarm came from the oasis. He was pretty sure the place was deserted. His eyes scanned the area in front of him; the small pond of water rippled in the slight breeze. Nothing else moved. He heard no sounds other than the wind. Glancing once more at the sun, he moved toward the water to look for any sign of Thomas.
His steps were quiet in the sand but seemed to echo in the vastness of the desert. He stopped to refill his canteen, figuring that it was better to do it now in case he had to flee into the desert. But all of his training was telling him there was no one here except him. He capped his canteen and started toward the hidden room in the dunes. It seemed the most likely place for Sarge to keep Thomas.
When he arrived at the dunes, a large, undisturbed pile of sand covered the entrance to the hidden room. There was no way anyone had used that room to contain Thomas. Tristan returned to the main part of the oasis, his eyes scanning high and low for any sign that the young boy had been here. He held his hand over the coals in the fire pit, searching for any sign of warmth but found none. As he rose back to his feet, he noticed a cut on the palm tree across from him. He crossed to the tree and smiled. Carved into the bark were Thomas's initials. The resourceful boy had managed to get something sharp to leave evidence that he had been there. Tristan leaned closer. There were marks under Thomas's initials. He squinted to try to read them. Was that an E?
Something sharp poked Tristan below the ribs in his back. Slowly, he raised his hands and turned his head to find the source of the weapon.
"Elton?"
"Don't move."
"Or what, you'll skewer me? Where is everyone else?"
Tristan's eyes quickly took in Elton's ragged appearance, his sand-covered clothes and unwashed face. What worried him most was the feral look in Elton's eyes. "How long have you been out here?"
Elton poked him with the stick whose point he had honed to a razor sharpness. "I'm asking the questions. Turn around."
Careful not to catch himself on the end of the stick, Tristan slowly turned around, keeping his hands in the air.
Elton licked his lips. "How did you get here? You should be dead."
"I'm harder to kill than you thought. But why are you the only one here? Where's Thomas?"
Elton spat. "Thomas," he sneered. "I should have killed that little brat. Who knew she would take such a liking to him?"
Tristan wrinkled his nose in confusion. "Who took a liking to him? Maeve?"
Elton laughed. "Not Maeve. She's dead now anyway." Tristan winced. He hoped Elton was just speculating and not speaking from actual knowledge. "Arabella. Treated the kid like her long, lost relative."
Tristan inched forward and lowered his hands slightly. "Where did she take him?"
"To Palumbra for her triumphal entry. Where else?"
Elton looked in the direction of Palumbra as if he could see it from where he stood. Tristan lost no time taking advantage of Elton's mistake, grabbing the pointed stick and turning it on Elton. Elton put up a feeble resistance but was no match for Tristan's superior strength and training. Tristan poked Elton lightly with the stick.
"How long ago did they leave?"
Elton stared at the ground, and Tristan thought he saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Yesterday."
"Why are you still here?"
"She left me behind to watch for you." His shoulders slumped. "But, really, I think she just left me behind to die. Maeve warned me she would turn on me when I was no longer useful."
"You should have listened to Maeve." He poked Elton again. "Let's go."
"Where are we going?"
"To rescue Palumbra."
###
"No way." Gray stood in front of the door to the hovercar with his arms crossed and his legs braced as if daring Tristan to try to move him. "We are not taking him with us."
"Gray, be reasonable," Tristan said in a calm voice. "We can't leave him here."
"Sure we can. He sold us out. Left us to die. Why should we save him?"
Gray felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head and focused on Emery. "Because you're better than him."
Gray straightened his shoulders. "What if I'm not?"
Tristan's serious gaze bored into Gray's defiant one. "I know that you are. Maeve knows that you are."
Gray's gaze faltered. He turned his eyes to the sky and swallowed slowly before returning his gaze to Elton. "Does it matter? His actions most likely killed her."
"No!" Emery jumped down from the hovercar and stood in front of Gray. "You can't think like that. We have to believe she's still alive."
Gray's shoulders fell, and his eyes glistened. He swallowed again. "I just don't know how she could have made it. By now, half of Palumbra could be dead." He stared at Elton. "And it's all his fault."
Elton took a step forward, fell to his knees in the hot sand and bowed his head. "I don't have an excuse. I wanted the power Arabella offered me, and I didn't care what it cost. I can't change what I did, but I am sorry."
"Maeve might be dead, and you're sorry? How is that supposed to make anything better?" Gray turned and put one foot in the hovercar. "Leave him here to rot."
Tristan stopped Gray with a hand on his arm. In a voice that only Gray could hear, he said, "What do you think Maeve would want you to do?"
Gray's knuckles whitened where he gripped the door frame. Finally, he said, "Fine. Bring him along." He whirled and looked down to where Elton still knelt in the sand. "But one wrong move, and I'm tossing him out."
"Agreed." Tristan grabbed Elton roughly by the arm and pulled him to his feet
. "Get in the car. Sit down and keep your mouth shut."
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
Maeve carefully placed one foot on the ground, letting her weight travel from the heel to the toe in an effort to be as quiet as possible. The others were spread out in a line to her right and left as they approached the plagoran grazing in the clearing. She could see the yellow tag on its ear, but even when she squinted, she couldn't read the number on it. She gave a silent snort. Did she really think the plagoran that she had helped would remember her? And would it care if it did?
She glanced over at Amelia who kept her gun trained on the plagoran but gave Maeve a quick wink. On her other side, Private Campbell had her gun trained on the plagoran with her finger on the trigger. She glared at Maeve. They had left Rufus in the trees at the edge of the clearing, fearing he would spook the gigantic creature.
The plagoran raised its head; its nostrils flared as it sniffed the air. Private Campbell raised her gun to take aim at the plagoran's head, and Patrick motioned with his head for Maeve to take the lead. She gave Private Campbell a hard look, which Private Campbell returned with a sneer. Maeve shifted her focus back to the plagoran, rolled her shoulders and took another step into the clearing. The plagoran sniffed the air again and swiveled its head until its gaze landed on Maeve. It let out a roar, and Maeve froze. The plagoran took a thundering step toward Maeve and roared again. Maeve scanned the opposite tree line with her eyes, looking for the plagoran's mate. They might be able to deal with one plagoran, but she was pretty sure that two would mean the end of their little group.
Despite Maeve's earlier bravado in front of Patrick and the others, her knees were shaking. She swallowed to keep what little breakfast she had eaten in her stomach and wondered briefly if her insistence on not killing the plagoran to get the venom would end in both her and Emma's deaths. She shot a glance at her empty hands and wondered at the wisdom of not carrying a weapon. The plagoran took another earth-shaking step toward her while Maeve stood frozen to the spot. She could hear the rustling of the others behind her as they sought the best shot without moving from their positions. The plagoran let out another roar; this time an answering roar echoed from the trees on the other side of the clearing. The sound spurred Maeve into action.
Slowly, she walked toward the plagoran who eyed her warily with its large, yellow eye. With every step she took, the plagoran roared, and its mate answered. Each time the answering roar was louder. Maeve thought she could feel the ground begin to shake, but she continued to walk slowly toward the plagoran, her arms at her sides, trying to appear unthreatening. Her hands shook.
When she was about 20 feet away, the plagoran let out a mighty roar and lowered its head to look her in the eyes. Its egg-shaped, yellow eyes met Maeve's in an unblinking stare. She didn't dare move despite her feet itching to run back the way she had come. She stared back into the plagoran's strangely haunting gaze without blinking. Her heart raced, and her breath came in short, quiet pants, making it impossible to catch her breath. Sweat rolled down her spine. Carefully, she held her hand out, palm up, like her father had shown her to do with a horse. She didn't think a plagoran had much in common with one of the government's plow horses, but it was all she could think to do. What was she thinking? She didn't have any experience with animals. They should have sent Private Thompson out first.
The plagoran looked left and right as if counting how many were in their group. Maeve heard Amelia shift behind her. Slowly, the creature lowered its head toward Maeve until she could read the number on its tag − 56823. It ignored Maeve's outstretched hand and brought its face toward her own, stopping just inches from her nose. Maeve was nearly blown over by the force of its breath, which smelled of grass and acid. She could see chunks of whatever it had eaten for breakfast caught in its many sharp teeth. The long teeth in the front held the venom, and she fleetingly wondered if she could just grab the tooth and run. Instead, she held her breath and didn't move. The plagoran shuffled backward slightly then lowered its head even more so its eye was looking directly into Maeve's.
"Hello." Maeve's voice cracked. She tried again. "Hello."
The plagoran cocked its head as if trying to place Maeve's voice. She raised her outstretched hand toward its nose, causing it to shuffle backward. She dropped her hand to her side.
"OK. It's OK. We're not going to hurt you."
The plagoran opened its mouth, and Maeve stifled the urge to step backward. In a barely audible voice and without taking her eyes off the creature in front of her, she said to Amelia, "Hand me the container." Amelia placed a small vial in her outstretched hand. The plagoran's eyes followed her every move.
"Remember me?"
The plagoran blinked again as if it understood her.
"I helped you, remember?" Maeve took a step forward. "I fixed up your wound."
The plagoran stood still, watching Maeve. She took another step toward it. The ground beneath her feet began to shake.
"There are about to be two of them," Private Thompson said from somewhere behind Maeve. "Finish making friends with it, so we can get what we came after and get out of here."
"I don't have a lot of time," Maeve said to the plagoran. "I need some of the venom from your tooth to help my friend. We don't want to hurt you."
She took another slow step in the plagoran's direction, continuing to speak as she moved closer. "How long have you been out here? Did Arabella put you out here, hoping to keep anyone from Palumbra from heading toward The Hub?" She kept up a stream of chatter as she finally got close enough to touch the plagoran. In what seemed like slow motion, she raised her shaking hand toward the plagoran's nose. It growled low in its throat, and the ground under Maeve's feet continued to shake with the steps of the plagoran's approaching mate. She held up the vial in front of its eye as she placed a hand on its nose.
"Be careful, Maeve." Amelia's quiet admonishment drifted to Maeve's ears.
The plagoran's large, yellow eye gazed into Maeve's brown ones and blinked. Maeve took that as acceptance and placed the vial against the plagoran's long front tooth. The vial seemed tiny against the tooth. Nothing happened. She took a closer look at the tooth and noticed a bump at the top of the tooth against the gumline. She moved the vial to the bump and pressed it against the creature's gums. Clear liquid began to drip into the vial. The plagoran stood unblinking as Maeve filled the vial. When it was full, she removed her hand from the creature's nose and stepped back.
"Thank you."
The plagoran blinked again and stepped back. Maeve began walking back to the others when a furious roar split the air. The plagoran's mate had arrived.
"Maeve, hurry!" Patrick shouted.
Maeve sprinted toward the tree line, careful not to drop the precious vial. Gunshots rang out and an unearthly scream rose from behind her. She turned to see the plagoran and its mate fall to the ground, and she stopped in disbelief. Fury rose inside her, bubbling into a froth of anger waiting to be released on whoever had pulled the trigger. She let out a scream of her own and turned to run back to the plagoran when hands grabbed both her arms and pulled her into the treeline. Maeve struggled, kicking and biting the people who refused to release her.
"Maeve." Patrick's voice broke through her fury.
"Who? Who did it?" Anger dripped from every word.
"It wasn't us," Amelia said. She pointed into the clearing. "It was them."
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Gray scanned the area in front of the hovercar, trying to find the source of the unearthly scream that had just split the air. Emery rushed to the front and peered out the window. The vehicle continued to glide just above the ground as Gray maneuvered it through the trees. They were so close to Palumbra, so close to help for Ginger. Another scream split the air.
"What do you think it is?" Emery asked, swiveling her head from side to side, trying to find the source.
Gray shook his head as he carefully steered the hovercar around a large oak tree. "I don't know." He looked over h
is shoulder at Ginger's motionless body and pale face resting on Tristan's leg. "But we don't really have time to stop and find out."
"I know you're right, but whatever that is sounds like it's in a lot of pain."
Gray took one hand off the controls and squeezed Emery's shoulder. "We can't save everyone, Em. We have to focus on getting Ginger some help."
Emery nodded but continued to scan the area. Her forehead wrinkled and she pointed off to the right. "Gray? Is that a hovercar?"
Gray slowed the vehicle and squinted in the direction Emery pointed.
"I think it is. What is a hovercar doing this close to Palumbra?" He brought their hovercar to a stop and strode to the back of the car where Elton sat.
"Did Arabella have a hovercar when she left you behind?"
Elton had said nothing since they had entered the hovercar and had kept his gaze firmly settled on the floor. When Elton tipped his face up toward Gray, his red eyes gave away the fact that he had been crying. Gray didn't care. "Yes. She had soldiers with her when she left."
Tristan gently moved Ginger's head from his lap and joined Gray. "What was her plan?"
Elton sat up straighter. "Why should I tell you?" All traces of his earlier remorse had morphed into defiance.
Gray wanted to shake him. "Are you kidding me? She left you behind to die in the desert. I thought you were sorry for what you did. Why wouldn't you tell us what you know?"
"Maybe she was going to come back for me." Elton sounded as though he was trying to convince himself.
"You aren't the brightest, are you?" Tristan sneered. "She tried to kill all of us. What makes you think you're special. Arabella uses people, then she discards them. We're your best hope for survival, but only if you tell us what you know."
"We can always just leave you out here by yourself." Gray renewed his original threat.
Elton looked from face to face, all united in their dislike of him. "I'm sorry." His shoulders slumped and he hung his head. "I knew what she was, but I thought I was smarter than her. She lured me in with promises of power and never being hungry again."
The Lost City: The Palumbra Chronicles: Book Two Page 27
